It is nice when you find money in pockets or wallets that you previously believed was not there.
It is nice when you watch a movie for the second or third time and notice something utterly fascinating that you did not notice the first time.
It is very nice, however, to listen to an album that on occasion you have listened to repeatedly for hours or days on end, an album in which you believe you know every note, every rest, every sustained instrumental; it is nice to hear this album for the first time through what you realize are an extremely good pair of headphones. To suddenly hear an extra layer of composition and arrangement; to realize that during the prolonged silence at the start of that first track, there’s actually something going on there. The wonderment of not having known the music at all.
To love another human being, fully, is to spend the duration of that love being surprised; it is an unconscious byproduct of being loved in return.
What a joy it is, then, for music you love to surprise you thus. To imagine that perhaps on some level the music loves you back.